We Will Survive
by NordicsAwesome
Summary: 17-year-old Toris is the sole carer of his two younger brothers. His life is a whirlwind of exhaustion and anxiety, and his only aim is to survive. Until Feliks arrives. As the two of them grow closer, it seems that perhaps this is what Toris needs to come out of his shell and start to live. But nothing can last forever...
1. Prologue

**Hellooo :3 So I decided** **to have a go at actually writing fanfiction! I'm not sure how well it went…O.o**

 **So, first up is the prologue! It's not very exciting really, but you will kinda need it to understand the rest of the story.**

 **Sadly, I do not own Hetalia, and never will.**

 **Anyways...enjoy!**

Prologue

For most 17-year-olds, life is pretty good.

At 17, most kids would be staying out late with their friends. They would be talking into the early hours of the morning about their future plans, half empty beer cans crumpled in their hands, planning out road trips and voyages in meticulous detail, the once impossible ideas that were now within reach. Almost all would be looking ahead, at the bright future they had ahead of them.

Toris Laurinaitis was one exception. In many ways, he was your average 17-year old. He was a perfectly ordinary, plain-looking boy with longish brown hair and green eyes, and a constantly anxious expression. Like any other teenager, he worried about school and exams and failure. However, he also had more important things to worry about.

Every day in class, instead of stressing over some complicated equation, he would be chewing his nails with anxiety over his brothers. Toris would be up until the early hours of the morning studying, because they needed him during the day. He would neglect his own essays and assignments in favour of helping them with theirs; making sure that Eduard finished his math and that Raivis still remembered his letters. The dark shadows under his eyes deepened with each day that passed, the exhaustion from caring for his siblings and managing to keep his grades up dragging him down like a physical weight, but he had no choice but to carry on.

There had been talk of sending them into care after their stepfather left. Toris had been only sixteen at the time; Eduard was ten, and Raivis was just four years old. Toris had always detested Ivan from the moment they met, but Raivis adored him. He was the only one of the three of them who really was Ivan's son – Toris and Eduard had been born to different fathers, who had both left when their sons were born. Despite this, Eduard also looked up to Ivan a lot and was constantly striving for his affection, even though he fervently denied it when asked. Raivis had been the most affectionate though, always begging for cuddles and games and stories, and his love barely faltered, even when Ivan drank too much and yelled at them and even, on occasion, smacked them. After each of these episodes, he would cry himself into a fitful, nightmare riddled sleep – even then, Toris had been the one to stay with him and hold him each time he woke up in tears – but in the morning he was always back to his bright, cheerful self. It was almost disturbing how little he understood. He was just too young to see that what Ivan was doing was so, so wrong.

Toris had always got the worst of Ivan's anger, after his younger siblings went to bed. Once they were asleep, he would challenge his stepfather and beg him to stop this, before he hurt them. Of course, he didn't listen. Ivan didn't like being challenged, and there was a price for it. But despite the pain, Toris never gave up.

Then, one day, Ivan left, and took their mother with him. It wasn't completely unexpected, for Toris. He had heard the whispers late at night, the quiet planning over glasses of alcohol, the muffled excitement drifting up the stairs. He had heard the little snatches of words, about Russia, and a new life, although he never heard anything mentioned about the children. Of course, he wasn't certain of anything. All he knew was that Ivan and his mother were planning on going away somewhere, and he wasn't sure when they would return.

When they broke the news, it wasn't as bad as he had expected. They were going away on holiday to Russia, to meet Ivan's family and stay there for a while. They weren't sure how long, but they would definitely, definitely be coming back. Promise.

Raivis, of course, had cried.

"But I don't want you to go, Daddy!" He had wailed. "I thought we were your family now! I thought you loved us!"

Eduard had shouted.

"This isn't fair! You're our parents, you're not allowed to leave us like this!"

Toris had said nothing. They had never been listened to in the past, so why would they be listened to now? The bags were packed, the flight was booked, and his parents were bubbling with selfish excitement. He knew that there was nothing he could do to change their minds.

So he just stared numbly as they climbed into the car and drove away, his mother blowing them a kiss out of the window. Raivis had sat on the floor and sobbed, his mouth square as tears poured down his face. Eduard had sworn over and over, punching a wall. As the car disappeared into the distance, Toris had but his lip so hard it bled, then had gathered up his siblings and taken them inside. He was sixteen years old, and had been sentenced to caring for all three of them for goodness knows how long. He had no idea how he was going to cope with this. But, somehow, he was going to have to.

Of course, the children couldn't be expected to keep it a secret, although Toris had warned them to. He had told them that they would be taken away and separated, placed in the homes of strange people that didn't really want them or care about them. Although he didn't mean to upset them, he had described it so vividly that both had been in tears and insisted on sleeping with him that night. Even so, the situation had been discovered after Eduard had got into a fight at school, and a Child Protection officer had come to visit. For a while there was uncertainty and doubt, especially for Toris – what should he do? What would be best for his siblings? – but their reactions when he sat them down and asked them was all he had needed.

"Just one chance, officer. Please. I can make this work."

And he had tried so, so hard. For almost two years now he had cared for them, neglecting himself so that he could attend to their every need. He was determined for them to have the kind of life that every child deserved; to prove that he could make it work.

After over a year of their parent's absence, Toris had almost given up on them coming home. He still clung to a shred of hope that one day he would open the door to see his mother standing there smiling, hopefully without Ivan. But with every day, that shred had become smaller and smaller, until it had almost disappeared altogether. He had never told his brothers what he suspected. Life was hard enough for them already.

Often, he wondered if he had done the right thing. Perhaps it would have been better for all of them if they had been taken into care. Eduard wouldn't have to grow up so fast; he could keep his childhood for a little longer, like any other 11-year-old, and he and Raivis would be able to have birthday parties and days out without having to count every penny they spent. Toris could have more time to focus on his studying.

But then Raivis would come running into the garden, his face alight with childish joy as he held out some interesting bug or plant for him to see, or Eduard would shyly turn up beside him in the kitchen and pick up a dishcloth to help with the chores, and he would remember why he had made the decision. They were family, and true family sticks together.

Sure, it wasn't the easiest life. But if these sacrifices meant that his brothers could be happy, then it was worth it. After all, his aim wasn't to have a great, exciting, colourful life like everyone else his age. His aim wasn't to live, but to survive.

 **Thank you for reading this! Because it was kinda short, I will be uploading Chapter One today as well, hopefully.**

 **Please review and tell me how it was! This is my first ever fanfiction, so I'm really excited to hear your thoughts about it, and I'd love some constructive criticism too, to help me make it better :)**

 **(Btw, I found the cover image on Google, and I have tried and failed to find out who it belongs to. If it is yours and you would prefer me not to use it, please tell me and I will remove it immediately!)**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello again, here is Chapter One! This one should be longer than the last, and it takes place around a year and a half later :)**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who has added or reviewed my first chapter, it makes me so happy! :3**

 **Once again, I do not own Hetalia.**

 **Enjoy!**

Chapter One

"Eduard, did you remember to practice your spellings?"

"Ugh, yes! You've asked that twice already!"

"Alright, sorry," Toris sighed, scrubbing at a sticky juice stain on the front of Raivis' shirt. It was the boy's first day of 'big school', and he could hardly send him off in that condition.

"I'm going to go to school, I'm going to go to school!" Raivis sang happily, swinging from side to side. "I can't wait, I'm so excited! Eduard says they have real homework and lessons, and every Friday there's playtime, and I'm going to make lots and lots and lots of friends and they can all come to our house and play…"

"Mm-hm. Hold still." He hummed, pretending to listen to the constant chatter as he fixed the wonky buttons on his brother's shirt. It was actually quite a relief that Raivis was taking this so well; he had expected him to be screaming and crying and begging him not to make him go, his usual reaction to change.

At that moment, Eduard appeared at the kitchen door, ready to go in his shoes and backpack. Quickly, Toris wiped the crumbs from around his struggling youngest brother's face, then picked up his own tiny backpack and helped him put his arms through it. Reaching over, he picked up two brown paper lunch bags and pressed them into his brothers' hands. He briefly checked the two of them over for stains or unbrushed hair or untied shoelaces, then sighed and pulled Raivis into a hug, feeling him squeeze back tightly.

"Have a good day at school, Rai. Make sure you have lots of fun so you can tell me all about it when you get home! And remember, if you ever feel upset or scared, just tell one of the nice teachers. Or go find Eduard, he'll look after you."

He nuzzled a kiss into his little brother's hair. Pausing, he held his breath as he waited for the tears that were bound to come, but he was greeted with nothing but a cheerful, "Okay!".

Maybe Raivis really was getting better. After Ivan and his mother had left, he had cried at the tiniest little thing, begging for his Mommy and Daddy every single night, but now Toris couldn't even remember the last time he had asked when their parents were coming home. Although it frightened him that Raivis could have forgotten so quickly, it was undoubtably better for all of them, and he certainly seemed a lot happier.

Releasing him, he turned to embrace Eduard.

"Take care, Ed. There's a pizza in the kitchen for you to heat up after school, but remember not to let Raivis have too much or he'll get a stomach ache. I should be home by six, perhaps a little later, because I need to pick up groceries after college. Don't drink any of the milk in the fridge, I think it's gone off. Oh yes, and-"

Eduard rolled his eyes, shrugging out of the embrace. "I'll be fine, stop worrying!" He protested.

"That's my job, to worry about you. Someone has to." He smiled softly and ruffled his hair. "Alright you two, get off to school. You don't want to be late on your first day, do you?"

Raivis almost squealed with excitement, jumping up and down and clinging to Eduard's hand. "No no no, we don't want to be late on our first day!" He echoed. "Let's go, let's go, Eddie!"

"I told you not to call me that."

Hand in hand, they began to walk off down the street, Raivis skipping with excitement as he chattered happily on to his big brother about goodness know what.

"Look after Raivis, Eduard!" Toris called after them, and they both turned. He winked at the younger. "Look after Eduard, Raivis!" He joked.

"I will." Raivis replied solemnly, squeezing Eduard's hand. The other two exchanged amused grins over his head, and Eduard gave a reassring nod as they continued to walk. Toris stood in the doorway with a smile still fixed on his face, watching until they disappeared round the corner. Then, in a sudden rush of exhaustion, his expression slipped and he slumped down at the kitchen table with a mug of black coffee, resisting the urge to rest his head in his arms. He knew that if he did, he would fall asleep again and be late for school.

Gulping his coffee, he raised his wrist to examine his watch. There was over an hour before he had to be at school, as his started later than his brothers' elementary school did. That meant there was enough time to have a go at finishing the history essay due that day. Although he had had all summer to complete it, he had to be a full-time carer for his brothers during the holidays, meaning that he had very little free time for schoolwork. Despite this, he tried hard and still managed to be a straight As and Bs student, and he didn't intend for that to change now. Anyway, he couldn't allow himself to get a detention when he had promised his brothers he would be home by six.

It wasn't like he could use caring for his brothers as an excuse anyway. He didn't want to risk getting the social services involved. So, picking up his pen, he got to work.

* * *

Toris shot awake with a jerk, his eyes flying to the clock.

"Shit!"

He must've fallen asleep while he was writing! Now he had only ten minutes to get to school. Quickly, he scribbled down a couple more sentences, finishing his essay in a way that was just about passable, then leapt up and hurried around, grabbing his coat and bag and grocery list. He snatched up the key and slammed out the house.

As it turned out, he made it to school with less than a minute to spare, slumping gratefully into his homeroom seat and breathing heavily as the bell rang. Automatically, he answered roll call then sat silently until the bell rang to signal the beginning of first lesson. He navigated the corridors as if on autopilot, in his usual haze of exhaustion and detachment, and dropped into his seat in history class.

Reaching down, he rummaged in his bag for his essay. It wasn't there.

"Damn it."

He stirred the contents of the backpack in the vague hope that it would appear, but he already knew that he must have left it on the kitchen table. What an idiot. There was no way he was going to avoid a detention now.

"Ahem. Mr Laurinaitis, your essay, if you please."

Red- faced, he looked up to find his history teacher standing over him with his hand out expectantly, giving him a smug smirk. For some unknown reason, Mr Edelstein had decided that this year, his pet hate would be Toris. He seemed delighted that he finally had an excuse to punish the usually well-behaved student.

Toris opened his mouth to stammer out an apology, but he was interrupted by the obnoxious crackle of the loudspeaker.

" _Would Toris Laurinaitis please report to the Principle's office immediately? Thank you."_

It took a moment for that to sink in. The loudspeaker was so rarely used, most people had forgotten it even existed. He hadn't been summoned in this manner since Eduard had got into his fight over a year ago. Normally it was reserved for students about to get into serious trouble, so Toris wracked his brains for any rules he could possibly have broken. Nothing. He had always been a quiet, reserved person who kept himself to himself and mostly went unnoticed. He was never singled out as being particularly badly-behaved or particularly promising or particularly smart. In every shape and form, Toris was normal. He was insignificant. Honestly, he could think of no reason why anyone would need him so urgently.

But everyone had turned in their seats to look at him, so he silently stood and slung his bag over his shoulder, flushing at the attention. Mr Edelstein looked disappointed, but hissed in his ear, "I expect that essay from you next time, Toris. Don't think I'll forget."

With that somewhat sinister warning, he slunk out, gazing at the floor with an expression of shame. He must have done something wrong, he was sure of it. But he honestly had no idea what.

The door clicked shut behind him, and he began to walk slowly through the corridors. The initial relief of the well-timed announcement had begun to wear off, and a feeling of dread and foreboding was beginning to pool in his stomach. This couldn't be good. He was pretty certain he hadn't done anything hugely wrong – perhaps it was just going to be another well-intentioned lecture on all the subjects he was struggling in. But surely they wouldn't have used the loudspeaker just for that? Unless something had happened with Raivis or Eduard…

He picked up his pace a little out of worry, cringing at the loud sound of his footsteps in the echoey hallway. Hesitantly, he approached the office door and gave a gentle knock.

"Come in!" A cheery voice called.

Toris gave a small smile as he opened the door and greeted the secretary. Miss Héderváry was one of his favourite staff at the school; she was always so sweet and cheerful, and she was one of those teachers who knew every student by name. _And_ she always pronounced his name correctly. The only thing he couldn't understand is why someone as lovely as her would be engaged to someone like Mr Edelstein.

"Toris, there you are! I'm so glad to see you. I'm sorry for pulling you out of history, but there's a really important job for you to do."

Toris sighed internally. In this school, a 'really important job' usually meant copying out a dictionary by hand or scrubbing the staff toilets with a toothbrush. Even so, he didn't want to be rude, so he gave her a small smile.

"What is it?" He asked cautiously.

Miss Héderváry gave a tinkling laugh. "You needn't look so terrified, Toris, I'm not asking you to do hard labour! All I need you to do is be a guide for a week or so."

"A-a guide?"

"Yep. We need someone to look out for our new student for a week or so, show him around and all that. I always thought you seemed like a nice, responsible boy who would be perfect for the job. Anyway," she added gently, "it would do you good to make some friends."

With every word, Toris' heart sank lower and lower into his stomach. Why, out of all the confident, talkative, popular people in his grade, was he chosen to do this job? It wasn't like he had good social skills or was particularly likeable or anything. He was just a plain, ordinary, boring boy who wanted nothing more than to slip into the background and disappear. And now he was being singled out.

Well, wasn't this just great.

Miss Héderváry seemed oblivious to his internal anguish. She ploughed on. "Toris, this is Feliks. Feliks, this is Toris, he'll be your guide for the week. Well, now the introductions are over with, I'll leave you two to get to know each other!" In an instant, she whirled around and marched out of the doorway, leaving the two boys hovering in an awkward silence.

Honestly, Toris hadn't even noticed that the other boy was there until his name had been mentioned. Now his eyes were drawn to him as he sat, slightly slouched, on one of the office chairs, examining his nails in a carefree manner. Chin-length blond hair swept over his face and obscured his eyes, which, when he looked up, were a brilliant green.

The boy - Feliks - raised an eyebrow. "So…hi?"

He said it as a question, with a sarcastic undertone that made Toris blush. Oh, of course. He had been so distracted with staring at the new student and feeling sorry for himself that he hadn't even spoken yet.

He hunched his shoulders defensively and muttered,"Oh, um…hello."

Wonderful start, Toris, he congratulated himself bitterly. Not awkward at all.

Feliks' other eyebrow went up, and there was another strained silence as they each waited for the other to speak.

Finally, Feliks said, "Are you, like, supposed to be doing something here? I mean, I totally don't care, but it's like sooo awkward right now…"

Toris started slightly and tried not to look too flustered. "Oh, yes, sorry. Do you have a timetable or anything, so I can show you to your class?"

"Already? It's like, ages until next period." He looked at his watch, which was, surprisingly, a hot pink colour. Toris was pretty sure it was intended for girls. He was also pretty sure that it would be social suicide for a new boy-or any boy, for that matter- to be seen wearing something like that. Feliks shrugged. "Anyway, I don't have one yet. Miss Hedey- vargle or whatever her name was said I should just go to all your classes for this week."

If possible, his heart sank even lower. He just wanted to get through school with the least amount of hassle and stress possible, and having a transfer student following him around would certainly not make that any easier. But he could hardly refuse.

"Héderváry."

"What?"

"Her name is Miss Héderváry. Her family is Hungarian."

"Whatevs. I mean, I know it's not her fault and all, but that name is, like, tf? She totally needs to get a nickname if she wants to keep working with kids. A nickname people can pronounce."

That was true enough, he supposed. Still, he couldn't help but be a little annoyed at the way this new boy just marched in here on his first day and began criticising the staff. It was his bad luck in the first place that he was stuck as a guide, and it would be worse yet if Feliks turned out to be obnoxious and ungrateful. He was tempted to glare at him, or give some biting comeback, but as usual, his polite nature took over.

"You're not local either, though, are you?" Toris asked curiously. As they'd been speaking, he'd noticed that Feliks had an unusual, European-sounding accent that he couldn't quite place. It wasn't very strong, but it was definitely there.

"Nah, I'm from Poland. We moved here a couple of years ago, because my parents thought it would, like, give me a better future or something. It totally hasn't."

Toris gave a slight huff of laughter, and Feliks looked at him expectantly. He realised that he should really tell him about how he moved to the country, just after Eduard had been born. Their mother had been convinced, when she was getting over her boyfriend leaving, that their lives would be so much better here. She had promised that there would be no more boyfriends, no more partying, no more drinking. She said she was going to be the perfect mother, and with the naïve trust of a 7 year old, Toris had believed her.

"Helloo?"

He jumped. "Oh! I moved from Lithuania when I was seven." Best to leave out the details, he thought.

Feliks' eyes widened. "Lithuania? That is so cool! We are like, totally neighbors! High five!"

He shoved out his hand expectantly. Toris stared at it for a moment, then gave it a hesitant tap, a tiny smile spreading across his face. No one at school had ever considered him 'cool' before, and it felt very unusual. But he liked the feeling. Yes, he definitely liked it.

* * *

After the bell rang for next lesson, Toris had been expecting to be able to brush Feliks off on the first group of popular kids he came across. But to his surprise, the other followed him around throughout the whole day, sitting next to him in every class and eating lunch with him. He even hung out with him during study period, although he slumped across the desk and moaned with boredom whilst Toris hunched over his textbooks, his brow furrowed in concentration. By the end of the hour, Toris had written pages and pages of notes in his neat scrawl. Feliks' page was empty, except for an elaborate doodle of a unicorn in one corner. Toris glanced over and frowned.

"You spent all study period drawing…a unicorn?" He asked a little incredulously. Admittedly, it was a very good unicorn, but still. Study period was for studying, not doodling.

"Yep! Isn't it fabulous?"

"Um…I suppose so…?" Teenage boys didn't usually talk about things being 'fabulous', so he wasn't quite sure how to reply. "What about your English, though?"

"What about it?" Feliks didn't even look up from his sheet, where he was adding sparkles to the unicorn's mane.

"We have a test tomorrow. Didn't you listen in class?"

"Noo.." His hand paused for a moment, mid-sparkle, then he continued drawing. "Still, it's not like it matters. I, like, totally suck at English."

Toris blinked, confused. "That's why you have to study for it, so you don't fail."

Feliks just shrugged. _Does he honestly not care?_ Toris thought, annoyed. Sure, it was difficult for him to keep up his studies with two younger brothers to look after, but at least he tried! If he could manage it, surely Feliks could. Feliks probably had two loving parents and a calm, steady home; he wouldn't have to worry about bills, or where his next meal was coming from. A sharp pang shot through his heart, which he realised was jealousy.

"At least you have a chance to do well!" He exclaimed in frustration, and Feliks looked up, his green eyes brimming with surprise and confusion. "It would be so easy for you, if you only tried. Is that the kind of attitude they encouraged at your old school?"

There was a pause, then Feliks burst out laughing. "Calm down, seriously! You sound like a teacher! Besides, I don't have an old school. I was, like, homeschooled." He said it as if it was the most ordinary thing ever.

"Really?" he asked, surprised. Though, to be honest, that explained a lot. Like the way Feliks thought it was a good idea to wear a pink watch to school, or his use of words like 'fabulous'. If he had ever been to a high school before, he would know that that was the recipe for bullying.

"Duh." Feliks waved a hand carelessly. "Anyway, I already know I'm going to fail, so what's the point in trying? It would just be a totally pointless waste of time, right? I have so much more important things I could be doing."

"Like drawing unicorns?"

"Exactly!" The sarcasm seemed to be completely lost on him.

Toris sighed, giving up. "Fine, alright. It's your future."

Slowly, Feliks replied. "Yeah. It's my future."

* * *

When Toris let himself in around seven, juggling with armfuls of groceries, he was greeted with a tight hug and the overexcited squeals of a five-year-old.

"Toris!" Raivis cried joyfully. "Guess what, guess what! School was really really fun and I made a new friend called Peter and we played together at recess, and I also made a friend called Lili and she's a girl and she played with us too, and also Emil but he doesn't really talk much but he sat with us at lunch and ate weird yucky fish stuff…"

Awkwardly, he struggled to set down the grocery bags and returned his brother's hug, looking over at Eduard who sat smirking at him across the table.

"Finally!" Eduard grinned at him good-naturedly. "He's been going on at me ever since we got home, it's good to see him doing it to someone else for once."

Toris chuckled and ruffled Raivis' hair. "I'm glad you had fun." He smiled. "How was your first day, Eduard?"

His brother shrugged and looked down at the table, and he thought for a moment that his brother was going to 'go teenager' on him and not answer. Then he looked up, blushing slightly and trying to bite down a smile.

"It was great. Mr Carriedo said he needed some help with the school website, and he asked me if I could do it!"

Eduard's face was flushed with pride and he couldn't stop a smile spreading across his face. Toris came over and pulled him into a hug.

"That's wonderful, Ed! Well done!"

His brother beamed proudly, then picked up his pencil and resumed his math questions. Raivis sat next to him, swinging his legs and poking his tongue out in concentration as he drew a scribbly picture. After watching both of them for a minute, he carried the groceries through to the kitchen and unpacked them, then began to cook dinner. It would have been simpler to just make a ready meal for them, but he was determined that his brothers would get a healthy meal every evening.

Usually he found cooking therapeutic, but today as he was chopping vegetables, he couldn't stop his mind wandering back to Feliks. It had been strange to spend a school day with someone for once. After his parents had left, he had been overwhelmed with responsibility, and had no time to maintain friendships. Slowly, all his old friends had drifted away. He couldn't remember the last time another kid had voluntarily spoken to him in school, never mind spent a whole day with him. It had been…unusual, but he didn't dislike it as much as he had expected to. In fact, he had almost enjoyed spending time with Feliks…

Suddenly, the pot hissed and boiled over, and Toris dropped the carrot to run and rescue the stew, all thoughts of Feliks banished from his mind. He sighed with relief as he turned off the heat.

"It's time for dinner!" He called through to the other room. "Can you come and set the table for me?"

Raivis entered the kitchen and began rifling through the cutlery draws, whilst Eduard reached over his head to grab three glasses from the overhead cabinet and fill them under the tap. Within minutes, they were all sat around the table, eating their stew and talking.

"What are you going to do for Mr Carriedo's website, then?" Toris asked Eduard, blowing on a spoonful of soup.

"Well," he began, "I was thinking the website needs a better background, maybe a dark blue with the school crest on it, and I'm also going to add a few pictures. Mr Carriedo said he tried to add some but they wouldn't work, so I had a look and I told him that they didn't work because they were in the wrong format. Because he didn't know that the format that's most compatible with a web page is JPEG-"

"What's a JPEG?" Raivis piped up, swinging his legs under the table. Eduard pushed up his glasses.

"It's a type of compression format for pictures on the computer. But there's actually two types of JPEG image format…"

Toris listened to his brother talk on to a bemused Raivis, trying not to let his own expression show his confusion. Vaguely, he wondered at what point his younger brother had become more clever than him.

"Rai, stop kicking me!"

"I'm not, I'm not!"

"Yes you were!"

"No I wasn't, I was just swinging my legs!"

"Well stop swinging them!"

"Can if I want!"

He was drawn out of his confusion to the sound of his siblings squabbling, as they did frequently. It exhausted him. He shouldn't have to deal with this; he wasn't a parent.

"Stop it, both of you," he sighed, his tone so weary that it made them both pay attention. "Good. Raivis, go get into your pyjamas and then come down for a story. Eduard, go upstairs and read for a bit, or you can join us for the story if you want."

He received a withering look in response to this suggestion. "No thanks. I'm eleven now, I'm not a baby."

On the last word, he gave Raivis a pointed look. The other boy whimpered. "I'm not a baby either!" He whined. "That's mean!"

"Eduard, stop it. Go upstairs. You too, Rai." Still whining and grumbling, his brothers climbed the stairs. Toris sighed again, wanting to drop his head into his hands, but instead he forced himself to stand up and drag himself to the sink to do the washing-up.

When he emerged from the kitchen, Raivis was standing there in his blue footies, with a book under his arm and his thumb in his mouth. Toris scooped him up under the arms and carried him over to the couch, settling him on his knee. The little boy cuddled up to him and tucked his head under his chin. Smiling, he began to read.

Ten minutes later, Raivis was fast asleep in his lap, curled up against him. Carefully, he carried him up to bed and tucked him in, then gave him a goodnight kiss and turned off the lights. After checking up on Eduard, he tiptoed softly down the stairs and pulled out his laptop. In the dark silence of the lounge, he typed away, a mug of coffee beside him to keep him awake, studying for the English test the next day. However, once again he found himself thinking about Feliks.

He couldn't say that he had liked Feliks, exactly. The other boy was just too shallow and frivolous, and he didn't seem to care about anything at all. There were times during the day when his carefree attitude had almost driven him to insanity. But still, there was something about him…something that made him want to get to know him better.

No! He didn't have time to think like this, not now. It wasn't like he would ever have the time to commit himself to a friendship. His brothers needed him, and they had to come first. There was no point in complaining about it, because it wasn't going to change.

With a groan, he rubbed the balls of his hands into roughly against his eyes, then leant back in his chair with a slight wince, his head tilted upwards.

 _Just a week, Toris,_ he reminded himself. _Just one week, then everything can go back to normal._

Then, banishing all irrelevant thoughts from his mind, he hunched back over and began to type.

 **Thank you for reading! Please feel free to review and tell me what you think :)**

 **Also, guess what? I'm going to Iceland in a couple of days! :D Finally, Icey will have tourists XD**

 **PS - I have no freaking clue if what Eduard said about the JPEG stuff was right or not, as I know nothing about computers xD So if anything's wrong…blame Google!**


	3. Chapter 2

**And I'm back with another chapter! I'm sorry it took so long to get this one up, but I was on holiday then I had a massive history exam, and** ** _then_** **I got a bit of writers block *cough*excuses*cough* xD**

 **Anyway, I'm not too proud of this one, but whatever. I promise things will start getting more interesting soon as their relationship develops a bit more!**

 **I still don't own Hetalia -_-**

 **Enjoy!**

When Toris arrived at school the next day, he was surprised to see Feliks waiting by the gate, jumping up and down impatiently and shivering. Although it was technically still summer, it was an unusually chilly day, and Feliks was dressed accordingly in a camel-brown thigh-length coat and a pale pink scarf. With his long hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, Toris thought with amusement that, from a distance, he looked just like a girl.

"Hey, Liet!" Feliks called as he approached. Assuming that he was calling out to someone else, Toris huddled a little more in his jacket and kept walking. It was only when he called again that he realised he was being spoken to.

" _Liet_! Stop ignoring me!"

He turned warily.

"…Liet?" What kind of a nickname was that? Was Feliks mocking him? Had the teasing started already? He should have guessed this would happen.

"Yeah. You said you're, like, from Lithuania, right?"

"Yes…"

"Exactly! So I'm totally calling you Liet from now on."

"...Okay…" An inexplicable wave of relief washed over him. So Feliks wasn't insulting him after all. He was just trying, in his own strange way, to be friendly. He really didn't know why this realisation made him so happy, but it did.

The conversation was still rather awkward, but as the two of them began to walk, Toris couldn't help but feel pleased that it was him Feliks had been waiting for. He had been so sure that he would have made some other friend by now and completely forgotten about him. It was a rather novel and exciting idea that another boy his age was willingly spending time with him. Not that he wanted Feliks to befriend him or anything. He didn't have time for friends. The sooner he was left in peace to get on with his life, the better.

A cold breeze blew past and Toris shivered, drawing his jacket closer around him. Feliks frowned.

"You totally need to get a new jacket."

He blushed and tugged at his sleeves in an attempt to cover up the inches of bare wrist protruding from them. Although he did need a jacket, that was the last of his priorities. It was more important that he buy Raivis' new uniform and Eduard's school coat. He opened his mouth to speak, but Feliks got there first.

He continued, "I mean, dark blue is like, so not fetch."

He blinked at him, then let out a short, relieved breath. So Feliks hadn't noticed, after all. He was just criticising his fashion sense.

"You're right," he smiled, humouring him. "Dark blue isn't...fetch at all."

"Totally. And those jeans…ugh."

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Toris looked down at his jeans. They were light grey, and a little worn at the knees, but he couldn't see anything hugely wrong with them. Whilst he was examining his legwear for fatal flaws, Feliks continued.

"Obviously no one has taught you anything about fashion," he sighed dismissively with a slight eye-roll. "If you think _that's_ okay. I seriously need to take you clothes shopping sometime."

Of course Feliks couldn't have been being serious. Teenage boys simply did not go on clothes shopping trips together. That was a girl thing. It could only have been a lighthearted joke.

Despite this, even the mention of spending time outside school with someone his age sent off alarm bells in his head. He couldn't leave Eduard and Raivis alone. He couldn't start another friendship and risk it dissolving painfully, just like all his old ones. As much as he wanted to befriend Feliks – and somewhere inside him, he knew that he did – it just wasn't possible.

Unsure how to respond, he wrung his hands nervously. Hopefully Feliks would just forget about it and keep talking, but he was looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for a response. Had that been a genuine offer?

"I…um…" Struggling, he tried to think of an excuse. "You see…"

At that moment, the bell rang, and Toris could have collapsed with relief.

"Come on, it's time for English." And he marched away from the conversation, leaving Feliks to scuttle after him.

* * *

The English test went well, for Toris at least. He completed his paper 20 minutes before the end and sat silently, gazing around at the other students as they hunched over their work and scribbled furiously. The only one not writing was Feliks. He was sat, sucking the end of his pen and examining the test paper with his brows furrowed in confusion, as if the questions were written in some form of incomprehensible alien language. Toris sighed and shook his head at the sight. Perhaps if Feliks had actually worked rather than drawing a sparkly unicorn, he might have some idea of what to do. He probably knew he would be let off though; after all, he was new.

When the hour was up, they all handed in their papers and filed quietly out. Then, the moment they got outside, the class erupted into chatter and relieved sighs and moans and laughter. Feliks appeared at Toris' side.

"I like, totally failed that test." He informed him cheerfully. Toris smiled slightly.

"I could see that. It really wasn't that hard, if you studied for it." The moment the words were out of his mouth he winced. He had said the words in a friendly enough tone, but to his ears they sounded superior and bossy. "Sorry…" he mumbled.

Feliks didn't seem offended at all though. "Yeah, well, I didn't study," he shrugged, picking at his nails calmly. "But whatever."

"Mm. Whatever." He agreed half-heartedly, wondering where Feliks had managed to get such a carefree attitude from. Part of him disapproved, but another part of him felt envious. He wished that sometimes he could fail a test without stressing. It would be nice if, just for once, he didn't have to worry about anything. But it had never really been like that. Probably, it never would be.

* * *

They had English again last period, and by the look on the teacher's face as he slammed Feliks' paper back on the desk, it couldn't have been good. Toris himself had got an A as expected. By this point, he didn't even feel pride at getting such a grade, just relief that he had managed to hold things together so far. While everyone else was bragging or moaning about their results, he watched with a strange kind of sympathy as Feliks was taken aside and lectured. The other boy didn't seem to be bothered at all, with his carefree smile and airy hand gestures, but Toris could tell he was a little disappointed, and he wasn't surprised. He himself would have felt awful if he performed as badly as Feliks obviously had done. There was nothing he hated more than failure. After all, when Ivan was around, failure meant punishment, and that was something he really didn't want to think about.

When class ended, they once again met outside and walked in near silence. Toris was curious to know what the teacher had said to him, but it would be rude to pry when Feliks hadn't said anything about it yet. As they walked, he watched as the other boy picked at his immaculate nails and brushed the hair away from his sparkling green eyes with surprising gracefulness. Sure, Feliks acted in a manner that was more than a little effeminate, but there was something intriguing and..almost attractive about it.

"Hey, Liet?"

Toris was startled for a moment when the silence was broken. He really shouldn't have lost himself in thoughts like that, and he hoped he hadn't looked too vacant. The tone in Feliks' voice sounded like he had tried to attract his attention several times, so he replied promptly.

"Oh, sorry! Yes?" He didn't comment on the nickname, having resigned himself to it by now.

"So, um, you know how I like, totally failed that test? Like _totally_?"

"Totally?"

"Totally as in 2%."

"…wow." Toris really didn't know how to respond to that. He hadn't known it was even possible to do so badly. "What did Mr Kirkland say about it?"

"Yeah. He said that I need to 'sort myself out' and even if I am the new kid this is just 'not acceptable' and that I need to retake otherwise my future is like, destroyed forever." He said it all in one rush of breath, raising his fingers like quotation marks at the appropriate times. His imitation of Mr Kirkland's British accent was so perfect that it made Toris laugh softly.

Feliks looked pleased with this reaction.

"So anyway," He continued, finally drawing breath. "I was thinking, you got like, a really good grade on that test, didn't you?"

Toris blushed a little and nodded, unused to the praise. "I got an A." He mumbled.

"Exactly! So, because you totally get English, and I totally don't, we could like meet up sometimes so you can help me study for my retake. Sound good?"

"Okay." The words were out before he could stop them, and he swore internally. Of course he couldn't help him, he couldn't get too close. If he tried to start a friendship, it would just fall apart because Toris had other priorities. They would just end up getting hurt. "When? In our shared study periods, or lunch break?" Damn it. Why couldn't he just shut up?

"Oh, I was thinking like, after school? So you could come to mine, or I could come to yourself, something like that? I think it would be pretty cool."

"I'm sorry, I can't." He blurted.

"Why not?" Feliks narrowed his eyes, annoyed.

"Because…" He struggled. "Because sometimes my parents work late, so… I have to look after my brothers. Sorry." He truly was apologetic. If he was honest, he would have loved to meet up with Feliks, as much as he tried to deny it. But he couldn't be honest, because of he was, any chance of a friendship would be gone just like that. No one wanted to be friends with someone who didn't have time for them.

For a moment, Feliks looked suspicious, disappointed and almost hurt. Then he shrugged and tossed his hair. "Whatever. At least give me your number though." He pulled out his iPhone, which was in a glittery pink plastic case.

Toris hesitated, unsure. Giving out a phone number like that would seem too much like proper friendship, and that was something it would be selfish for him to try and commit to. But Feliks needed his help, and he could probably find time to send him the odd text every now and then.

"Alright." He relented, pulling out his own phone. What harm could it do?

Feliks raised his eyebrows at the ancient device, then effortlessly added each other's numbers onto their phones.

"Here you go. Awesome, so now we can talk, like, whenever!"

Toris allowed a small smile to grace his face. "Yeah."

Perhaps it would be nice to have a friend for once.

* * *

The phone pinged whilst he was washing the dishes that night, up to his elbows in soapy water. He glanced across at the glowing screen, a buzzing feeling of happiness and anxiety fizzing in his chest when he saw the sender's name. Feliks had texted him. Surely that meant he wanted to be friends, right?

But…he couldn't reply straight away, not now. He couldn't appear too lonely or desperate. After all, Feliks knew nothing of his life, and he intended to keep it that way. To Feliks, he was just an ordinary kid; plain, generic, a little boring…

Maybe Feliks didn't want to be friends with him, anyway. It wasn't like he was an interesting or unique person in any shape or form. He probably just wanted him to help with his English because he was freakishly clever. The chances were, Feliks was laughing at him behind his back. He was probably just waiting to snigger at whatever he replied.

But Feliks wasn't like that. Or was he? _Anyone could betray you, Toris_ , he warned himself bitterly. _Anyone_ _is capable of earning your trust then striking you down. Just like Ivan did._

The buzzing happiness faded, replaced with a dull weight. With a sigh, he turned back to the sink and continued to scrub fiercely,waiting until the phone screen faded to black.

 _I'm sorry, Feliks_. He wanted to say. _I_ _just can't do this. I'm not ready. Find someone else to be friends with._

But he didn't, because deep down, he knew that he did want to befriend Feliks. He just didn't know if Feliks would be willing to wait for him.

* * *

Toris sat bolt upright with a gasp, his loud panting the only sound in the dark, silent room. His eyes squinted at the clock; 3:28am.

" _O_ _Dieve ... Dieve_..." He whispered, struggling to catch his breath. It was so dark, the room seemed to be fragmenting before his eyes, he couldn't orientate himself. Coherent thoughts would not come to his mind.

Slowly, his head began to clear. _It was just a dream,_ he told himself, mouthing it into the silence. But it wasn't. It wasn't real, but it could have been, and the guilt still crushed him.

Even thinking about it made his breathing speed up, and he took deep gulps of air. Then he swung himself out of bed, stumbling a little as he hurried down the corridor with his breath loud in his ears.

He arrived at Eduard's room first, pushing open the door and letting out a sigh of relief. His brother lay sprawled across the bed, his blankets tangled around him and his glasses propped on the bedside table. He was snoring softly, fast asleep. Toris watched for a minute, gazing upon him with eyes softened with affection.

In the next room, Raivis was curled in a ball under his blankets, snuffling softly into the stuffed rabbit clutched to his chest. He slept peacefully, from time to time murmuring to himself peacefully with his light, wavy hair lying fluffy and tousled on the pillow. But most importantly, he was okay. Toris made himself relax, taking deep breaths and loosening his tense shoulders.

 _It's alright, they're fine, they're both fine. Thank God._

Carefully, he crept closer and pressed a gentle kiss to the scar above his brother's eyebrow. It was healing nicely and was barely visible beneath his long fringe, but Toris could remember all too clearly how he had acquired it. He shuddered and vowed, as he did every time he woke from these nightmares, that he would never let anyone hurt his brothers again.

After a few minutes of watching his brother sleep and trying to clear his mind, he padded slowly back through to his own room and sat heavily on the edge of his bed. The panic had evaporated now, but his stomach was twisting painfully from stress. Wrapping his arms across his aching stomach, he glanced around edgily, his eyes darting about. He knew Ivan was gone, but still…he could still sense the terrifying aura of his presence.

 _I need some light in here_ , he decided, reaching for his phone. The screen glowed, showing that the time was almost four. Beneath the time was a message.

 ** _From: Feliks xx_**

 ** _To: Liet 3_**

 ** _Hey Liet :) Thanks 4 gving me ur numbr! Look forwrd 2 seeing you 2morrow!_**

It was a simple, precise message, and the grammar was terrible, but Toris smiled regardless. ' _Look forward to seeing you'_ … when was the last time anyone had said that to him?

A warm feeling appeared inside, and he settled down on the bed, his stomach finally calming. Closing his eyes, he clutched the phone in his loose grasp and fell fast asleep.

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **According to Google Translate, "O Dieve…Dieve…" means "Oh God…oh God…" in Lithuanian. I don't imagine that Toris would speak in Lithuanian all that much, but it would probably be the first language that comes to mind after waking up from a nightmare.**

 **A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed or added so far, your support means a lot to me! I'm always excited to hear what you think! :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hello again :) Sorry for the wait for this one, but I was on holiday visiting relatives and my time was taken up with trying (and failing) to be social .-. Hopefully updates should be quicker from now on…maybe…xD**

 **I**

 **do**

 **not**

 **own**

 **Hetalia.**

 **Enjoy!**

Toris sighed as he looked across at Feliks. The two were sat eating lunch together against a wall in the courtyard, as they had done every day that week. With the soft midday sun shining down and the light hum of chatter drifting from the open windows of the school building behind them, he should have been perfectly happy. But he wasn't. Because today was Friday, his last day of being a guide to Feliks. After today, they would no longer have any obligation to hang out together, and Toris was surprised by how sad that thought made him. It was odd to think that just four days ago, he had hated the very idea of getting involved with this boy. Now he could only think of how much he was going to miss their sort-of friendship.

"You know, Liet, I was thinking…"

His reverie broken, Toris turned to look at him curiously. An amused half-smile had already appeared on his face, because whenever Feliks started a sentence in this way, he just knew it was going to end in something completely random. Either that, or he would say something deep that would keep him thinking for days.

"Do vampires need to eat? I mean, they're, like, dead and all, so I guess not, but…?" He asked this in a perfectly serious tone, as if the answer was genuinely important to his existence. Toris' mouth twitched with the effort of suppressing a smile as he tried to look thoughtful.

"I don't think so, Feliks." He replied patiently. "They wouldn't really have a use for it, seeing as they're…well, dead. Besides, they drink blood at night, so that's probably all they need."

"Oh yeah, I forgot they drink blood. That's like, so ew. I mean seriously, who even drinks _blood_?"

"Um…vampires do?"

Feliks stared at him for a minute, confused, then burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Liet, you are like, so funny! 'Vampires do!' Hahahaha!"

Toris peered at him, trying to work out from his expression if he was being sarcastic or not, but he seemed to be genuinely amused. To be honest, this wasn't entirely surprising. In their whole week of acquaintance, Feliks hadn't once mocked or made fun of him, save for the occasional lighthearted teasing. He had never made him feel threatened or intimidated; in fact, on one occasion he had even confronted a student who had sworn at Toris when they collided in the corridor. Gradually, he had come to believe that Feliks really did have no intention of hurting him. It was nice to be able to trust someone; unfamiliar, but nice.

He smiled gratefully at Feliks, only to be met with his suspicious gaze. It was rather unnerving.

"…what? Feliks, why are you looking at me like that? W-What did I do?"

Feliks just continued to regard him with his head tilted to one side and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Are _you_ a vampire?"

This certainly took him by surprise. "I'm sorry, what? Why would you think that?" He laughed nervously, assuming that it must have been a joke, but Feliks just continued to watch him solemnly.

"I've never seen you eat anything." He reasoned. "And you always look really pale, like a vampire. Do you have pointy teeth?"

"Um…I don't think so…?" This conversation was stranger than some of the ones he had had with Raivis, and that was saying something. "Anyway, I do eat sometimes, just never at school. I guess I just don't get hungry much."

It wasn't even a lie anymore. He remembered when he had first started depriving himself of some meals several months ago, he had been wracked with hunger and had spent lunch hour with his head buried in a book to distract himself from it. But by now it had become natural, and he had grown to ignore the occasional pangs that shot through his stomach. It was worth it to ensure that his brothers had enough to eat. And it showed that he was strong; he could bear through a little pain for the sake of others. _Beat that, Ivan._

"Oh yeah?" Feliks didn't sound convinced, but didn't challenge him. That was another thing he really appreciated; Feliks had never pried into his life. Not much, anyway.

"Hey, uh…Toris! Holy shit, is that you?"

He looked up so sharply he could swear he heard his neck crack. Above him stood Alfred, of all people, gaping down at him in astonishment. About a step behind him stood another boy of around the same age, wearing an old-fashioned knitted vest in an unattractive mud-green colour, and rather incredible eyebrows which Toris could not help but stare at. He quickly retracted his gaze, blushing, when the boy glared at him defensively.

"H-hello Alfred…I, um…" Damn. He had forgotten how tense things had grown between them. He would have liked to think that it was only because they hadn't spoken in two years, but he knew that wasn't it. The hostile stares he was receiving from Alfred's friend weren't helping much, either.

"Who's this?" Alfred blushed and rubbed his neck awkwardly as he nodded towards Feliks.

Toris glanced across at Feliks, waiting for him to introduce himself, but he was looking at the ground by his feet with a shy scowl. Admittedly, he found this cuter than he should have.

"Th-this is Feliks. He's my…uh, my…" He trailed off, uncertain how to finish. Would it be too forward to refer to Feliks as his friend? But would it be offensive to simply call them acquaintances? The last thing he wanted to do was to upset someone over something so trivial.

Alfred nodded wisely. "Oh, I see, I see."

Too late, Toris realised his mistake. "Oh no, we're not-"

"Artie here's mine."

"It's Arthur, you git!" For the first time, the other boy had spoken, revealing he had a thick British accent.

"Sure, sure, whatever dude. So, Toris, how you been?" Despite Alfred's best efforts, the atmosphere of this conversation was growing tenser by the minute.

"I-I've been good, I guess. How..how are you?"

"Great, great, never better." He was trying to sound casual, but Toris could hear the undertone of concern in his voice. Alfred was the only outsider who had ever known what Ivan had done behind closed doors, though he had vowed on his life never to mention it to anyone. But even he had not known the full extent of the situation. That was something Toris didn't ever intend for anyone to find out.

There was a pause, and Toris struggled to keep the conversation going. "Are you s-still on the football team?"

Alfred gave a loud, forced laugh. "You mean soccer, dude! And yeah, I am still the hero of the soccer team." He flexed his muscles proudly. Behind him, Arthur gave a contemptuous snort. Then his voice softened, and he leaned closer.

"Hey, Toris. Sometimes I still think of what happened back then, and I think…I wish…I mean, I guess I'm happy with the way things worked out. I know I'm happy with my Artie, and you seem happy with Feliks…"

Toris opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again in resignation. If Alfred thought they were together, then what did it matter? It wasn't like they were likely to speak again any time soon. And he didn't want to admit it, but the idea sort of…pleased him. Only a little, of course.

"…but I can't help but feel bad. Because you're a good dude, Toris, and you didn't deserve that, any of it. So, y'know, if you ever want to talk, or just be friends or whatever, then…yeah. I'm always here."

A light blush dusted Toris' cheeks as he looked up at him, pleasantly surprised. He had no idea that Alfred still cared at all, considering that their relationship had fallen apart and he was clearly with someone else. Of course, he didn't still like him in that way; they were well past that stage, both of them. But to think that Alfred still worried for his wellbeing, even after two long years…

"Thank you, Alfred." He said gratefully, his words heavy with subtle meaning. He was sure that neither Arthur nor Feliks understood what they were talking about, but Alfred did, and that was what mattered. "Thank you."

Alfred straightened up, his trademark grin returning. "No problem! That's what friends are for, huh?"

Behind him, Arthur cleared his throat and looked very obviously at his watch. Alfred got the hint. "Well, me and Artie gotta be heading off, so I'll see ya around! Hang in there!"

He gave them a jaunty wave, then grabbed Arthur's arm and headed off. The moment they were out of earshot, Feliks turned on him, his shyness completely evaporating. "Who was that?" He asked in a tone that bordered on accusation.

Taken aback, Toris replied, "That was Alfred. He's an..an old friend of mine. We used to be v-very close, a few years ago." The glint of hostility visible in Feliks' eyes startled him; it had faded slightly at his response, but there was still a definite flash to his eyes.

"Oh. So you weren't, like, together? I assumed you were-"

Waving his hands frantically in front of his face, Toris exclaimed, "Oh, no no no! Nothing like that! I'm not even, you know…I'm not into men." The lie slid readily from his tongue, having been rehearsed year after year as an internal mantra. _Perhaps, if I think it enough, it will change. Then Ivan will have one less thing to hate me for._

"Oh." For a split second, he thought he saw an expression of disappointment cross Feliks' face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. "I am." Flicking the hair easily from his eyes, he glanced over to gauge Toris' reaction.

Toris just stared back at him. How had Feliks just come out with that so easily? Was he really not worried at all about what anyone else would think? And why had his heart given a little leap at the confession? He closed his eyes briefly in an effort to block out the chaotic thoughts.

"If you, like, have a problem with me being gay, you can just say so. I totally don't care." Feliks' voice broke through his thoughts, and Toris could tell instantly that he wasn't telling the truth. He _did_ care.

"No, not at all. That's not what…never mind."

"What was all that about, anyway?"

"What was what about?"

Feliks narrowed his eyes. "You know what I mean, Liet. What Alfred was saying. 'You didn't deserve that, any of it.' You can't try and tell me that meant nothing."

"It..I…" His face flushed as he scrambled to think of an excuse. There was no way he could tell Feliks the truth. He couldn't let him know how weak and defenceless he had been under Ivan's wrath. It was too humiliating, too shameful. "W-we had a..a rough breakup, that's all. A fallout, I mean. Between friends. And h-he said some nasty stuff that he regrets."

Damn, why was it so difficult to lie to Feliks? It was so effortless, so natural now, to deceive his teachers, his brothers, even his mother in the letters he wrote. _I'm fine, everything's fine_. The words would just roll from his tongue, accompanied by no feeling of guilt or shame. He just didn't want people to worry over him. There was no need for them to worry, after all; he was surviving, wasn't he? And that's all he needed.

But why, with Feliks, did it suddenly hurt so much?

"…Riiiight. Yeah. Whatever you say, _Toris_." The venom in his voice pierced him like a bullet.

Feliks got to his feet and swung his backpack on. Toris followed, frantic to make amends. "I'm s-sorry, I-I didn't mean-"

"Oh yeah? You didn't mean to _lie_? Well that's great to know!" His eyes flashed, and Toris was sure he had never seen him so angry. He opened his mouth to apologise, but nothing came out. "I thought we were friends, Toris! All my life people have lied to me, and I thought I'd finally found someone who would be honest! Obviously, I was wrong. I can't trust you, after all."

To his horror, Toris felt tears beginning to prickle behind his eyelids. _Stop it, Toris. He's not hitting me. He's not even threatening me. This is nothing in comparison. It shouldn't hurt like this._

"I'm sorry, Feliks," he whispered.

Feliks gazed at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable."Whatevs. Look, I gotta go. See you." He said coldly, and with that, he stalked off. Toris gazed sadly after him. This wasn't how their five-day friendship was supposed to end. But…he had said 'See you,' hadn't he? So perhaps it wasn't over yet?

Silently, he picked up his backpack and hauled it over one shoulder, heading back towards the library building. It was odd to be alone for once, without Feliks. Less than a minute after he got inside, his phone vibrated.

 ** _From: Feliks xx_**

 ** _To: Liet 3_**

 ** _Liet. Sorry I got mad. Still friends, yeah?_**

He couldn't stop the smile that pulled at his lips as he typed back, without thinking.

 ** _From: Toris_**

 ** _To: Feliks_**

 ** _Still friends. :)_**

* * *

"Eduard, Raivis? I'm home!" Slamming the door behind him, he dumped his bag down in the hall and waited for a response. "Hello?"

"I'm in here!" A voice called from the lounge, and Toris went in the find Raivis kneeling at the coffee table, colouring with thick wax crayons. "Look at my picture, Toris!"

He ruffled his brother's hair and leant over him to study the picture. It showed the three of them – himself, Eduard and Raivis – with a label in shaky handwriting, 'MY FAMILY'. Toris smiled, then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Very good, Rai. But where's Mommy and Daddy? Aren't you going to put them in your picture too?" Sure, Toris didn't like their parents at all, but there was no way he was going to encourage his five-year-old brother to feel the same. A child deserved to be able to look up to their parents, at that age.

Raivis looked up at him with an expression of puzzlement. "But this is our family." He stabbed his finger at the paper. "They're not in our family any more."

Toris sighed and knelt beside his brother in the carpet, taking the crayon from his hand to make sure he was paying attention.

"Just because they live in Russia doesn't mean they're not in our family. They will always be family to us. Families don't always have to live together; they can be far apart, but they don't stop being a family. They still love you and care about you, even if they can't be with us right now. Understand?"

His brother had been listening intently to his little speech. When he had finished, he silently picked up his crayon and continued to colour. Quietly, he mumbled around his thumb, "That's not what I meant…"

Slowly, Toris straightened up with another sigh. At least he had tried. Then another thought occurred to him. "Where's Eduard?"

"He's right here, look!" Raivis said, pointing at the picture. "Right next to me."

"No, I mean, where is he?" He gestured around the house. "He should be down here looking after you."

Raivis pouted. "I don't need him to look after me." He protested indignantly. "I go to big school now; I can look after myself!"

Toris smiled down at him. "Yes, I know, you're very grown up now," he agreed gently. "But he should really be in here anyway. He's not gone up to his room again, has he?"

A shrug, then a nod. "Mm-hm. He went upstairs right when we got home. He always does that now. I don't mind."

It was true. For the past few days, he had returned home to find Eduard nowhere to be seen, always hidden away in his bedroom. He supposed it was normal for most eleven-year-olds, but it wasn't like Eduard at all. Something was wrong.

"Yes, but I mind. I'd better go up and check on him. You stay here, okay?"

"Mm-hm," Raivis agreed absently, already focussed on his colouring again.

Toris left and climbed the stairs, reaching the top and coming to a stop outside Eduard's door. He raised his fist and knocked.

"Eduard?" No response. "Eduard!"

There was a long silence, and he was beginning to worry that perhaps something had happened, when suddenly;

"Get lost…" It came as a quiet, muffled-sounding grumble, as if it was being spoken into a pillow.

"Can I come in?" He tried cautiously.

"No! Go away!" His shout was louder this time, and more insistent, with threatening undertones, but his voice sounded strained and thick with tears. That made up his mind.

"I'm coming in."

"No, don't-"

When he pushed open the door, he had half expected to see the room in disarray. But it wasn't. It was as neat and ordered as usual, with a small amount of clutter that marked it as the bedroom of a preteen boy. The only thing that was different was Eduard himself.

His brother was curled in the bed, his tear-stained face pressed into the pillow, with sheets and blankets tangled around him. His hair was untidy and his face was flushed from crying. It was a pitiful sight, and Toris felt his heart constrict with sympathy as he came to sit on the edge of the bed and held his arms out to him.

"Oh, Eddie…" he sighed gently. "What is it?"

Eduard sniffled and choked back a sob, ignoring Toris' outstretched arms. "It's nothing," he scowled. "J-just leave me alone."

"Please tell me, Eddie. I won't be angry with you, I promise, no matter what it is."

His face crumpled, and the tears began to flow again. "Y-you'll h-h-hate m-me…" He wept.

"I won't, I won't. I could never hate you." Eduard only sobbed harder, so he reached out and pulled his brother into his arms. He had expected to be pushed away, but instead Eduard clung to him and buried his head in his shirt. Gently, Toris ran a hand through his hair to calm him, and spoke softly.

"Shh, it's alright. Whatever it is, I'm not going to be cross. I just want to know what's wrong, okay?"

At first there was no response, then his brother gave a slow nod and pulled back slightly, dragging his sleeves across his eyes. He took a few deep, shuddering breaths.

"IlikeTino." He blurted in a rush. Then, seeing that Toris didn't understand, he repeated it more slowly. "I like Tino. A lot."

"Who is Tino?" He spoke in a soft, calming tone, careful not to sound vindictive or accusatory.

"Tino is…s-someone in my class. And…h-he's…he's a b-boy. I'm sorry!" With that, he burst into a fresh flood of tears.

Toris was astonished. Of course the news came as a surprise, but he was more shocked by the fact that Eduard had feared he would be angry. Surely he couldn't have forgotten Toris' relationship with Alfred? Eduard knew that he was gay, so why on earth did he think he would be cross about it? It just didn't make sense.

Instinctively, he pulled his brother closer and rubbed his back, struggling to figure it out. "Why did you think I would be angry, Eddie?" He asked steadily.

There was a long pause.

"Y-you mean, you're n-not?" Eduard looked up at him hopefully, rubbing his eyes.

"No, of course I'm not!" he replied. "What made you even think that? I was with Alfred for months, remember?"

If he had thought that would calm his brother, it served to do anything but. His face crumpled yet again.

"B-but when…w-when Ivan-" he broke off with a choked sob. Toris froze.

"Ivan?"

"W-when Ivan f-found out…about – about y-you and Alfred…I h-heard you downstairs, and…and you were, y-you were s-screaming, and-"

"Shh! Shh, it's okay. Don't think about that now. It wasn't really t-that bad." Even so, he couldn't quite keep the stutter out of his voice from just thinking about it. Even the memory of it sent chills down his spine. "You shouldn't have heard that, you should have been asleep."

"H-how could I sleep, when y-you were screaming so loud?" Hesitantly, Eduard reached out and ran a hand down Toris' back, feeling the web of raised scars that were barely able to be felt through the fabric. "D-does it still hurt?" he asked tentatively.

"No." It wasn't entirely a lie. The physical scars didn't hurt any more, at least. "I'm sorry that I woke you, that time. I shouldn't have made you have to hear all that."

Eduard scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. "You're blaming yourself again. You shouldn't do that. Not everything's your fault, you know." Looking up, he gave him a watery smile. "It's not like you're that important."

Toris chuckled softly, then carefully pulled back from their embrace. "Come on, it's late. You should get some sleep."

He turned to leave, but Eduard stopped him on the way out. "So…you really don't mind that I'm…you know, gay?" Years of living with Ivan had taught him to whisper the word cautiously, even when he was no longer around to listen.

"Yes, I meant what I said. I wouldn't lie to you, Eddie. Anyway," he added. "Sometimes it's worth the pain, to be who you are."

Then he slipped out quietly, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Later that night, Toris lay awake in bed, thinking. He had carried an exhausted Raivis up to bed almost an hour earlier, and now both of his brothers were fast asleep in their rooms. The house was completely silent except for the magnified ticking of the clock, but Toris' head was buzzing with thoughts.

 _Sometimes it's worth the pain, to be who you are._

It was good advice, and undeniably true. But it was also much, much harder than it sounded.

 _How can I be who I am, if I don't risk the pain? But how can I take risks, when I have my brothers to think about before myself? I'm happy the way I am, right?_

He twisted restlessly in his bed. _Am I happy? Or is that just another lie?_

Finally, he sat upright, giving up on sleep. He climbed out of bed, careful not to make a noise, and went over to sit up on the windowsill, his favourite place for sleepless nights. Looking out over the lights of the city, he wondered vaguely where Feliks lived, and if he could see the glow of his home from the window. There was so much he didn't know – so much he wouldn't ever know – unless he took this risk.

 _Perhaps I should follow my own advice. Maybe it could be worth it, to take a chance with Feliks._

 _After all, what do I have to lose?_

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Yeah…that was pretty intense…**

 **Sorry if that chapter wasn't my best, but I'm not too great at all the emotional stuff :/ The next one should be a bit more lighthearted though!**

 **Once again, thank you to all who have added or reviewed! I'm always happy to receive reviews, whether it be constructive criticism or suggestions or whatever. Your opinions matter! :3**


	5. Chapter 4

**Ahh I'm so slow, I'm sorryyyy! I've been so, so busy these past couple of weeks with school and stuff, and with GCSEs coming up :/ But anyway, here is another chapter for your enjoyment!**

 **I**

 **Do**

 **Not**

 **Own**

 **Hetalia**

"Feliks, you're going to be late!"

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, Feliks ignored his mother's shout as he carefully adjusted his long fringe over his eyes. Peering up through the thick blond strands, he regarded his reflection in the mirror; black skinny jeans, a hot pink shirt, and a thin silver bracelet around his slim wrist. There were discarded outfits scattered all over the bedclothes, but he decided that he had finally picked something he was happy with. Sure, lots of people over the years had told him that he bothered too much about his appearance, but they didn't understand its significance to him. His mother called again.

"Hurry up, you need to be leaving now!"

He started for the door, then turned back once again to check his reflection, before grabbing the hairbrush and readjusting his fringe. _It's not vanity,_ he told himself. _I just want to make an impact. I want to give them a reason to notice me, to remember me._

"Feliks!"

"I'm _coming_!"

Hurriedly, he pulled on a pair of socks and ran downstairs, taking them two at time. He almost collided with his mother at the foot of the stairs.

"Oh, there you are, Sweetheart, I was getting worried. Do you need me to give you a ride to the studio?" Her tone was so gentle that she was almost cooing, her eyes brimming with love. Feliks guessed he was lucky to have such a devoted mother, but sometimes he wished she would stop being so smothering and just let him _live_ a little.

"I'll walk," he replied coolly, ducking away as she advanced towards him for a hug. "It's only, like, five minutes down the road."

"Are you sure, Sweetie? I could come with you if you want?" She was already reaching for her jacket.

"No, I'm _fine_!" He snapped, yanking his own beige coat from the rack and shoving his arms through the sleeve. Seeing the hurt in her eyes, he deflated a little. Her expression reminded him of when he had yelled at Liet the other day; that look of innocent, bewildered sadness. A weight of guilt settled on his shoulders and he sighed. "I'm sorry, Mama. But really, I'll be fine on my own. I _am_ , like, seventeen, remember?"

"I know, darling," she cooed, brushing the hair from his eyes. _I spent, like, so long arranging that hair as well._ "Alright. Be safe, okay?"

"Yep, okay. Bye!" Quickly grabbing the door key off the window ledge, he slammed out into the brisk autumn air. He stopped on the doorstep for a moment, taken by surprise by the sudden change in temperature, then pocketed they keys and set off down the street in what he hoped was the right direction. They had searched out the drama studio on their first day of arrival, as they always did when they moved to a new town, so it shouldn't be too difficult to find the way.

Feliks gave a light scowl as he kicked at a few fallen leaves littering the pavement. _Why do we have to keep moving, anyway?_ They had moved house pretty much every few years for as long as he could remember, and he absolutely hated it. His mother had practically promised that once they arrived in this country they would settle down for good, but here he was yet again, having been uprooted from his old town and thrust into another on his mother's whim. Even though Feliks frequently reminded himself that he should feel grateful for his parent's efforts, he often wished that they would just stop trying. _Why can't they just accept the facts? Running away isn't going to change anything._

After about ten minutes and several wrong turns, he finally arrived outside the drama studio. It was a relatively large, modern building with bright new bricks and wide polished windows, and a large sign above the door declaring it an 'Excellent Establishment for the Physical and Emotional Development of Young People.' There were countless flyers pinned to a notice board outside advertising all kinds of singing and acting and dancing classes, and Feliks spent a few moments pretending to study them as he attempted to summon enough courage to go inside.

As he hovered uncertainly by the entrance, a tall boy with long blond hair flounced through the doorway, brushing carelessly past him. Instantly, he felt his chest tighten with crippling shyness. The feeling was almost overwhelming, and he nearly turned and fled there and then, but instead he forced himself to square his shoulders and step forward confidently. _This is acting class; I can pretend I'm not afraid. I do it often enough, don't I?"_

Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door. The hall was occupied by about eight or nine teenagers, all laughing and chatting and joking around with one another. He had expected to become the centre of attention immediately, but instead he was mostly ignored as he stood there in what he hoped was a confident stance, save for the occasional curious glance or raised eyebrow. The blond boy who had passed him on the way in was laughing obnoxiously and shaking his head pityingly at the pink shirt. Feliks gave him a fierce glare, which only made him laugh harder, then looked away and scanned the room. To his surprise, he recognised one of the boys in the class as Alfred, the guy Liet had been talking to yesterday. At that moment, Alfred turned and their gaze met. Alfred's eyes widened in astonishment and he seemed to be about to come over to him, but at that moment the leader yelled for their attention to start the session. Throughout the lesson, Feliks noticed that Alfred kept shooting him strange, almost contemplating looks, but he soon became so immersed in his acting that this odd behaviour seemed to blur into the background and was quickly forgotten.

* * *

Feliks exited the studio with a spring in his step. He had always loved acting and, despite their daunting first impressions, he had grown to like the boisterous but dedicated members of the drama group.

It was odd that Alfred hadn't spoken to him though. With all the strange looks he had been giving when he thought he couldn't see, Feliks had been pretty sure that Alfred had something to say to him. _Why does everyone seem to be keeping secrets from me?_ He thought, irritated. _First Liet, and now Alfred..._

Liet and Alfred had been in a relationship before, that much was obvious. So why did Toris insist that he wasn't interested in men? Was he ashamed of it? Or was he just trying to let Feliks know that he didn't stand a chance?

The rapid thud of footsteps approaching on the pavement behind him pulled him from his thoughts. Turning, he saw Alfred jogging towards him.

"Hey, wait up!" He called, drawing alongside him and panting a little. "You're Feliks, right? Toris' friend?"

 _Are we friends? I thought we were, but Toris doesn't seem to think so._ "Yeah." He could have explained further, but he didn't really know Alfred that well. Or at all.

"So, um, you guys are together?"

"I don't know." _If he would let me._ "I thought Toris wasn't, like, into guys."

Alfred blinked at him for a moment, clearly surprised. "He lied."

"I figured." _Of course he lied. He's always lying._

There was a heavy silence as Alfred seemed to deflate, his boisterous attitude deserting him. "Look, Feliks. Dude. There's stuff you don't know about Toris, stuff he won't tell you. And I'm not gonna tell you either. But I will say; he's never had it easy, and he still has a pretty rough life. So I just wanna warn you, if you ever hurt him, and I mean ever, then I'm gonna-"

"What do you mean, a pretty rough life?" Feliks interrupted.

"I mean…look, jeez, I can't tell you, 'k? But he's been through a lot of shit, and he deserves to be treated good." He hesitated and rubbed his forehead, then added almost apologetically. "I- honest, I doubt you're gonna get close to him. He kinda pushes people away. I thought I managed it for a while, he seemed so much happier, but I guess I messed up because one day he suddenly decided it wasn't working and we broke up."

Feliks fixed him with an intense stare. "Tell me, Alfred."

"Huh?"

"Tell me about him. Tell me how to get close to him."

"Dude, I made a promise not to say anything to anyone."

"Well, I'm not anyone!" He blurted, frustrated. "You don't, like, stand a chance with him anymore. I do. You just _said_ Toris deserves to be treated good, and who's gonna do that if I don't?"

Alfred hesitated, clearly torn. Sensing this, Feliks pressed on. "Please. I like, really need to know this. How can I get close to him, how can I make him happy, when he holds secrets from me? He won't have to know that you told me."

Running a hand through his hair agitatedly, Alfred muttered, "I don't know… I mean, I guess you're gonna find out sometime…you might as well know so you don't mess up like I did. It's just –"

He began to turn away, but suddenly a pale arm shot out and thin fingers gripped his wrist like a vice.

"Please, Alfred. I don't have much time. It's, like, pretty rare that I ask for help, but I'm asking you now. I..I like Toris a lot, and I totally think that I could help him, but I can't do that unless you tell me how."

For a long moment Alfred just stood there, gazing at Feliks with conflicted eyes. Feliks stared defiantly back at him. Finally his resolve crumpled, and he lowered his arm.

"Alright," he conceded. "I guess it'll be for the best. Let's discuss this somewhere inside."

* * *

Alfred dropped into the booth opposite Feliks, setting the tray down on the table with a clunk. Taking a long slurp of his strawberry milkshake, Feliks tossed his hair and propped his chin up on his palm, looking at Alfred expectantly.

"Like, spill."

"Uh…" Alfred looked a little taken aback. "Jeez, where do I begin?"

"How about when you like, met Toris?" He hadn't intended to sound so sarcastic, but he was growing impatient.

"Ok, ok." Alfred gave a soft sigh. "I guess it would've been about, sixth grade, seventh grade? It was a while back, anyways. Toris was still pretty quiet and serious even back then, but he had more confidence and he smiled more. We didn't really talk that much, but we were kinda friends in the way all elementary school kids are, y'know?"

Feliks gave a quiet huff. "Can you like, get on with it? I don't have forever you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting to it!" For a moment his face creased in annoyance, then the expression softened and he stared wistfully into his glass. "It wasn't until several years later that we really started getting interested in one another. He'd changed a lot by that point; he was thinner and paler and more anxious and withdrawn, but I guess no one really noticed it much because everyone changes a lot at that age. It was difficult to get to know him. He was a very cautious and jumpy guy, and so secretive. Kind of like now, I guess."

Feliks nodded emphatically.

"But in the end, I managed to get him to start dating me. It never really was an easy relationship. Toris took a long time to start trusting me, even longer to become comfortable around me, and he still completely clammed up when I introduced him to any of my friends. He was always hiding stuff from me as well. Sometimes he would show up at my house, or at school, with a limp or a bruise, but he wouldn't tell anyone where it came from. Not even me, his boyfriend. It was all very, very suspicious."

Intrigued, Feliks leaned closer, his milkshake forgotten. "So what was causing all the injuries?"

"It was a while before I found that out. He was still acting real strange, and it all hit a peak when one day I heard this frantic banging on my door as I was fixing a snack. I opened it and Toris was standing there in the pouring rain. He was completely soaked through and panting, and he practically begged me to let him stay the night at my place. Of course, I was extremely surprised, but I said yes, the hero I am." He gave an odd, forced laugh. "Toris was still acting really stressed out though, so I made up some popcorn and decided we should chill on the couch with a movie. He agreed. So I got the film all set up and we started watching, but when I looked away from the screen I could see that he wasn't even looking at it, he was just sitting there and crying. I paused the movie and asked what was wrong, but he wouldn't tell me, he just shook his head over and over then got up, saying, 'Sorry, Alfred. I should leave now.' He stood up off the couch but I grabbed his wrist to stop him, and…"

Here, Alfred broke off, swallowing loudly. Taking a large gulp of his Coke, he looked across at Feliks, who was listening intently, captivated. With a wry, twisted smile, he continued in a hushed voice.

"His sleeve fell down, and all up his arm there were these little black marks. Cigarette burns. My first thought was that he was self-harming, so I asked 'why?' He just stared at me with this expression of such horror and fear it gave me chills. Then he said, 'I didn't do this.' I asked 'Who did, then?' But he changed his mind and said that actually, he had done it. I didn't believe him. It didn't make sense. Until, suddenly, it did."

"What do you mean?" Feliks breathed.

"This was the reason he always acted so afraid. This was the reason for all the bruises, the anxiety, the way he never invited me back to his house. The reason he never let me meet his family. This was why he kept everything behind closed doors."

Slowly, Feliks' mouth formed itself into a small 'o' of realisation. "You don't mean that, like…" He trailed off, unwilling to voice his suspicions.

"Uh-huh." Alfred affirmed gravely. "It took a while, but finally I managed to get the truth out of him. It was his stepfather, Ivan. He told me some terrible, terrible things…"

Clenching his eyes shut, he took a deep breath before carrying on.

"He told me that his father had beaten him, starved him, locked him away for hours on end, and…and…" Alfred gulped, swallowing the lump in his throat with difficulty. His tone lowered to a whisper. "He wasn't lying; I could see just how much it hurt him to tell me these things. By the time he was finished, he could barely speak through his tears. I tried to hold him and comfort him, but he started panicking and begging me to promise not to tell anyone about what he'd told me, ever. In the end, I agreed."

"But you totally didn't keep that promise."

"No. I didn't."

Alfred cleared his throat. "We didn't break up straight after that. We kept going for quite a while actually. Toris often showed up with all kinds of bruises and scars and I would try to talk to him about it, but he would never tell me anything. He said he just wanted to forget. Then, one night…"

He paused to take a sip of soda and collect himself. Sensing that the story was coming to a climax, Feliks leaned forward, his eyes urging Alfred on.

"One night, it was real dark and icy so I insisted on walking Toris home. He protested, but I guess I was pretty pushy because in the end he let me come along. As we got closer to his house, he was getting more and more nervous and he kept telling me to go back, but I refused. By the time we were outside his house, he was physically shaking! He kept glancing up at the house as he said goodbye; clearly he didn't want us to be seen together. But then I did something so, so stupid."

Alfred closed his eyes in a grimace of guilt and regret.

"I kissed him. Right there in the damp, lamplight driveway, I kissed him. For a second, it was okay. It was even pleasant. Then, he suddenly pulled away with this terrible expression of shock and fear and I realised what I'd done. I tried to apologise, but he just turned and ran inside the house, slamming the door. I didn't speak to him for ages after that."

"How long?"

"I dunno…a few weeks, maybe? He didn't turn up to class for the next couple of days, and after that he wouldn't speak to me. It wasn't like the cold shoulder or something where they just ignore you. Toris was actively avoiding me, and it hurt. It hurt a lot. So one day, about a couple of weeks after the kiss, I cornered him round the back of the school building and asked him about it. He wouldn't look at me."

"What did he say?"

"He said…he just kind of stared at the ground beside my feet, and said in this really flat voice, 'Look, I'm sorry Alfred. I can't do this anymore. It was good while it lasted, but nothing can last forever.' I stood there in silence as he pushed past me and walked away. It was never really the same between us, after that."

Alfred's story was received with a long silence. Feliks stared down into his frothy strawberry milkshake, suddenly not wanting it anymore. He wasn't really sure how he was supposed to react. The story had horrified and stunned him; he was worried that he wouldn't be able to look at Toris through the same eyes ever again.

"Is his stepfather, like, still around?" He asked, eyes simmering with anger. It was odd how much he detested this man he'd never met, but how could he help but hate someone who hurt Liet?

"Nah, thank God. I heard Ivan moved back to Russia or something."

"Good riddance!"

Alfred gave an sad, forced chuckle. "Yeah. Good riddance." He hesitated. "Y'know, I'm glad I told you. It feels good to relieve the burden for once, after so many years."

"I'm totally glad you told me, too." Feliks replied through gritted teeth. God, he hated that Ivan man so, so much. "Where does Toris , like, live, by the way?"

"Uh, 16 Union Way, I think…wait, why d'you wanna know?"

"Thanks." Feliks stood up abruptly, abandoning his half-finished milkshake.

Alfred stood up as well, looking worried.

"You're not gonna do something stupid, are you?" He asked a little nervously, and Feliks realised how wild he must look with that glint of rage still in his eye. No wonder Alfred was so alarmed.

Tossing his hair, Feliks gave his most innocent smile. "No, course not." He tugged on his jacket and headed to the door, then turned and called back to Alfred, "Thanks for telling me. It, like, means a lot."

Slowly, Alfred raised his hand in farewell. "So long." He watched his new confidant disappear away down the street, then sank back down in his seat at the booth.

Why had he broken his promise? How could he have betrayed Toris to a complete stranger like that?

But…it had felt right. Everything in him told him that Feliks should know, that this kind of thing shouldn't stay hidden forever. And wasn't it just as much betrayal to disguise his friend's suffering from the world?

With a quiet moan, he buried his face in his palms.

When had the lines become so blurred?

 **The next one should be more lighthearted, she said. Ahaha…**

 **Yep…so I tried to do a POV change. Please review and tell me what you thought!**

 **There was actually supposed to be more in this chapter, but the word count was getting pretty high so I decided to post it as it is. Luckily that does mean I have part of the next chapter written already!**

 **Also, if you haven't already, it would be great if you could check out my new LietPol oneshot, Your Light c:**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Ah, I'm sorry this chapter took so long! Time flies when you have exams D:**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews, favs and follows for the previous chapter! I'm truly sorry this took so long, but thanks for sticking with me anyway! I can't promise I'll update more frequently after this, as I'm currently being sucked into the black hole of school life, but I will try my very best :)**

 **Anyways…enjoy!**

* * *

Toris stared at the meagre pile of cash on the table in utter disbelief. Blinking a few times, he took another long sip of black coffee in an attempt to clear the haze of exhausted confusion from his brain, then counted again.

And again.

When the result came out the same for the third time, his heart began to race. Even with his newly-earned Saturday morning pay package added to it, the sum didn't amount to nearly as much as it had the previous week, although he couldn't think where the money had gone to. Evidently, he was getting careless. He would need to be more careful if he didn't want to risk drawing the attention of the authorities; he already knew that they weren't satisfied with his situation, and were just waiting for an opportunity to drag the three of them into care. From there, they would be split up into separate homes, placed with complete strangers who most likely didn't want or care about them…people like Ivan…

When he realised his breathing was getting shallow, he began to suck in deep, calming gasps of air, gripping the edge of the table to ground himself. It was a minute before the panic subsided to its usual hissing background noise; subdued, but ready to rise up and consume him at any moment. This time, Toris was able to force it down.

He could handle this. He _could_. It was going to be difficult, of course, but what wasn't?

"Right, so." He spoke to himself aloud, as Eduard and Raivis were playing upstairs so would remain blissfully unaware of his crisis. After all, what good would it do to panic them as well? They had no idea how difficult things were getting, and he intended to keep it that way. "If I put this much aside for groceries –" He pushed a small pile of notes across the table. "And _this_ for the bills next month, then I should have…"

Dismayed, he peered at the leftover money. _No, this can't be right._

"No, perhaps if I only spend _this_ much on groceries, and I cut out my bus fares altogether – I can easily walk more often- I might have enough for…"

Shaking his head, he scooped the cash back into one pile once more. With this much, he could just about afford the bare essentials, but he could only imagine how disappointed Raivis would be when he heard that there would be no party or presents for his birthday in a couple of weeks. Perhaps, if he skipped out on a few more meals, he might be able to manage to afford the ingredients for a small cake, but that would do little to satisfy a six-year-old, even one as undemanding as Raivis. Even Toris had celebrated his own sixth birthday – and God, it felt like so long since he had been an innocent, carefree child – with more extravagance than that (even if he had ended up guiding his drunk, pregnant mother to bed in the early hours of the morning.)

No. He was determined to give his brothers a normal, happy life, and that meant being able to provide for them. If he started looking for another weekend job now – Sunday evenings, perhaps – then he might just have a enough saved away to make the day special.

 _I'll start searching the newspapers now_ , he decided, scraping the money over the edge of the table and into a glass jar. The container rattled emptily as he placed it on the shelf. _There must be someone who will hire me._

Infused with forced confidence, he drained the rest of his coffee in a single gulp, and stood to make himself another cup. He was halfway to the kitchen when a there was a pounding at the door, so loud and sudden that it made him freeze in a startled panic. The coffee mug shot from his hands and exploded against the floorboards. Shards of stained white porcelain shattered across the ground, skittering under the kitchen worktops and sprinkling into his socks.

For a moment he stood there in shock, numbly evaluating the damage.

"Damn it…"

The knocking sounded again. Toris flinched slightly. He made no move to answer the door, instead crouching down with a dustpan and brush and beginning to sweep up the wreckage.

"Toris!" Eduard appeared in the doorway. "There's someone at the door."

"Don't come in." He replied, holding out a hand to stop him. "I just dropped a mug, and there's sharp pieces everywhere. Stay out the way until I've cleaned it up."

His brother squinted at him, confused and slightly irritated. "Are you even listening to me? I said there's someone at the door."

"I know, I just…" Toris didn't know why, but the idea of opening the door to anyone terrified him. He hadn't done so in over a year, not even for the postman, because they so rarely received mail that there was no need. Perhaps his fear stemmed from the memories of Ivan pounding at their door, his drunken fingers too shaky and uncoordinated to fit his key into the hole, and their mother running to welcome him in, ignoring the desperate pleas of the children who cowered at the foot of the stairs. And of course, the inevitable beatings that followed.

It was stupid, he knew that. There was no way that Ivan could possibly have come all the way from Russia, so, realistically, he had nothing to be worried about. But he also knew that fears were rarely realistic, and that did nothing to lessen the feeling of dread.

He really, really didn't want to let anyone in. But Eduard was still staring at him, so he sighed and straightened up, tipping the ceramic shards into the dustbin. "Alright, alright. Just give me a minute."

There was a pattering of tiny footsteps, and Raivis appeared at Eduard's side, twitching nervously. The door pounded again. Why wouldn't they just go away?

"Th-there's a strange boy outside the door, Toris." He murmured in an anxious tone, scuffing at the ground with the toe of his left foot. "Or m-maybe it's a girl. I can't tell. I asked th-through the l-letterbox – I kept the door on the chain, like you always tell me to - and he said he was Feliks. B- but we don't know anyone called Feliks, do we, Toris?"

Raivis' lower lip was quivering and Toris hastened to reassure him, relief washing over him like a wave.

"It's okay," he smiled gently, "It's okay. Feliks is just my friend from school, that's all. He's just come round to say hello. You two can go back upstairs and play if you want, while I see him in."

With a collective sigh of relief, he brothers hurried away up the staircase. Toris paused and took a deep breath to collect himself. When the door sounded for the fourth time, he strode forwards and tugged it open with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Oh, Liet," Feliks greeted him in a casual tone, although he was bent over with his hands on his knees, panting as though he had just run a marathon. "Heya! Why weren't you, like, answering your door?"

"What are you doing here?" He tried to sound friendly and welcoming, but his voice came out flat. He raised an eyebrow at his friend's discomposure. "Are you okay?"

Immediately, Feliks straightened up, grinning, although he was still breathing heavily. "Yeah, course I am! I'm fabulous. Are _you_ okay? I heard something smash in there…"

Briefly, Toris thought back to his moment of panic in the kitchen, and the crushing terror of Ivan returning to them. The little colour remaining in his face drained from it.

"I'm fine."

Feliks peered at him suspiciously. "Are you sure? Like, 100%?"

"Why are you here?" He hadn't intended for the question to come out in such a harsh, accusing tone, but Feliks' persistent questioning was making him nervous. It just wasn't normal, to have people worry about him, to ask if he was okay. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever asked him that. He knew he didn't deserve their concern.

For a moment, Feliks looked looked taken aback. "I'm, um…" Then his face seemed to light up, and he pulled a crumpled worksheet from his pocket and waved it triumphantly. "English homework! You, like, promised to help me, remember?"

Toris didn't remember. In fact, he was pretty certain he had promised no such thing, but the last week had been such a blur of stress and anxiety that it could easily have slipped his mind. Besides, whatever he had promised, there was no way he could turn away the friend who was now standing on his doorstep. Toris had no problem with keeping others at a distance, but that didn't give him an excuse to be blatantly rude. Also, if he was entirely honest with himself, there was a part of him that wanted to close the gap between himself and Feliks, that wanted to know more. There was a part of him – a tiny, tiny part – that wanted to give himself another chance.

"Oh yes," he murmured vaguely. "I remember now. Come in."

Hopefully Feliks wouldn't notice the way his hand trembled on the doorknob as he held it open. His friend narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, then smiled and strode inside, kicking his shoes off and dumping his pale pink duffel coat in the centre of the living room. Once inside, he turned slowly on the spot, gazing round at the bare floorboards and plain walls and high plastered ceiling. Toris, hovering uncertainly behind him and wringing his hands, followed his gaze.

"You, like, have a nice place." Feliks stated finally, and Toris thought that it was a surprisingly meaningless comment for one who had been observing every detail of his house for the past few minutes like a detective in search of clues.

"Th-thanks, I guess."

Feliks flashed him a winning smile, flopping onto the couch and kicking his legs over one of the arms as if he had lived there his entire life.

Toris hesitated in the centre of the room, wondering if it would be too invasive to try and share the sofa, but when Feliks patted the seat next to him he came over and perched on the edge of the cushions. He dragged the coffee table until it was in front of them, and then offered;

"Can I see the English homework, then?"

"Oh yeah…sure." Feliks flicked it towards him with a surprising lack of enthusiasm. Toris leafed through the remarkably easy questions. It was almost unbelievable that Feliks would be incapable of answering these by himself, but he remembered how difficult he had found English at first, not being a native speaker himself, and found himself considerably more sympathetic.

He cleared his throat and reached for a pen.

"Okay, so for question one…"

* * *

After half an hour, they had made little progress. Despite Feliks making the evidently tiring journey to his house to ask for help, he showed very little enthusiasm as he lounged lethargically on the sofa. Although he kept his eyes fixated on Toris' face, whenever he asked him to repeat an explanation, it became quite evident that he wasn't taking in a word of it.

His constant distractions weren't helping either.

"Hey, Liet?"

"Yes?" He replied pleasantly, taking a few notes on the language techniques. He could give them to Feliks to transform into a proper answer later.

"Have you ever, like, tried _kołaczki_?"

Toris blinked. "Um, no, I don't think so. Never heard of it. Now look, if you look at the part where the author is describing the contrast between the – "

"How about _paçzki_?"

"No, I haven't. Can you at least try and focus-"

"Aw, that sucks, cos they're totally fabulous! My mom makes, like, the best paçzki you've ever tasted!"

"I'm sure she does. Now can you _please be quiet!_ " Although his tone wasn't especially aggressive, Feliks seemed taken aback, and it occurred to Toris that his friend had probably never seen him annoyed before. For a second, he felt a little guilty. Perhaps he was being too uptight, too unfriendly. Maybe this was how most people managed to make friends, and he was just messing it up, as usual.

At least his technique had worked though. Feliks didn't disturb him again for almost five whole minutes.

"Hey, hey, Liet?"

Gritting his teeth, Toris bent over the paper and gripped his pen tighter.

"Liettt?"

…

"Liieeeettttttttttttttttttt-"

Finally he broke. "Oh for God's sake Feliks, what is it now?"

"I'm boreddddd!"

Toris flung his arms up in exasperation. "Well, perhaps if you were actually bothering to make yourself useful here, you wouldn't be! You're the one who came round here asking for help, and now you're working me like a slave! You can't just rely on people like that, Feliks - that's not how it works in this world."

Feliks raised his hands in defence. "Woah, sorry. I was only, like, saying. I think you just need to chill."

Sighing defeatedly, he tossed his pen down on the coffee table and sat back against the cushions. "I think I just need to have a break."

"Good, me too," Feliks smirked. "I was hoping you would say that." With a small yawn, he stretched himself out on the sofa, dangling his legs over the side. The ends of his hair rested against Toris' thigh, and he found himself blushing at the contact. He couldn't help but admire the aesthetically pleasing – if rather thin and angular – curves of his friends' body as he lounged across the couch, then only blushed a deeper red as he realised how inappropriate that was.

"God, I hate English," Feliks yawned lethargically. "Why do we even have to learn this stuff, anyway? It's not like we're ever going to use it in life."

"You would if you became a writer." Toris pointed out. "It would be pretty important then."

Feliks raised himself on his elbows to look at him. His face was uncomfortably – thrillingly – close, and Toris stumbled for a moment, lost in those emerald eyes. If he had leaned forward and closed his eyes, their lips could have touched… _No. Stop it, Toris._

"Why? Do you want to be a writer when you leave school?"

Creasing his brow, Toris looked away out of the window. "I don't know what I want. I don't really have any plans, to be honest. Right now, I'm just trying to survive every day as it comes."

Feliks' eyes widened for a moment in something akin to sympathy, and he placed a consoling arm on Toris' leg.

"Aren't we all?" He laughed somewhat ruefully.

"So you don't know, either?"

Feliks shrugged and leant back, closing his eyes. "Yeah…well. I mean, I have so many dreams, so many ideas for the future, but it's kinda overwhelming, you know? Like, there's so much I want, but I know I'm never going to get it, because it's all just, like, dreams and wishful thinking…"

Toris stared at him. It was astonishing how much Feliks' feelings resonated with his own. Even though he had long let go of his dreams, the overwhelming dizziness of the fast-approaching future was still the same. Their affinity was consoling and strangely warming.

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean. It feels like there's never enough opportunities, there's never enough of a chance for you to break away. There's never enough time."

The resulting silence was so prolonged that Toris turned his head to look at Feliks in confusion. He friend was staring at the wall directly opposite, his eyes distant.

"Yes," he whispered, and Toris wondered if he even knew he was speaking aloud. "That's it. There's just never enough time."

* * *

By the time Toris had finished the homework – with next to zero contribution from Feliks – it had become obvious that his friend was not intending on leaving any time soon. He had made himself completely comfortable on the couch, obliviously scrolling through the messages on his phone as Toris toiled away, hunched over his notepad. When he finally flung the biro down in triumph and rose to make himself some more coffee, his friend seemed to have made the couch his new habitat for the foreseeable future.

Toris couldn't help but be pleased about that. He didn't want Feliks to leave yet.

When he returned to the living room, carefully balancing a tray containing his coffee, Feliks' chocolate milkshake (he hoped Eduard wouldn't mind that he had raided his supplies) and a plate of slightly stale biscuits, he found his friend tapping away at a phone that seemed to be non-stop vibrating.

"Wow, someone's popular," he commented, sitting down on the couch.

Feliks gave him a look of mingled annoyance and amusement. "It's my mom. She's like, freaking out. I kinda didn't tell her I was coming here, so she now thinks I've, like, been abducted by aliens."

For a second, Toris felt a pinch of jealousy. He couldn't imagine _his_ mother ever worrying about him like that.

"Maybe you should go back to her, then?" He suggested halfheartedly. It was the right thing to do, he knew, but his heart sank at the idea of Feliks leaving so soon.

Feliks hesitated, glancing at Toris, then held the power off button on his phone. "Nah. I told her I'm safe, so that's, like, enough. We're good."

"If you're sure…" he murmured, but he didn't put up much of a fight, because his selfish side wanted Feliks to stay here, with him. "Alright then." A little wistfully, he couldn't help adding, "Your mom seems to care about you a lot."

A sound somewhere between a huff, a laugh, and a sigh emerged from the other side of the couch. "Huh, yeah. She's just sooo overprotective. You know what, she doesn't even want me to go to university because she thinks I'll like, die or something if I have to look after myself."

"Really? Wow…" That seemed like a very strange notion. But then again, maybe that's what normal parents were like. _How would I know?_

"Are you going to uni?" Feliks asked, slurping at his chocolate milk. "They were, like, handing out all those leaflets in homeroom again. I kinda want to go, but I know I'm like, too totally hopeless to get into the good ones." He laughed easily, not seeming to be bothered by that at all.

"You're not hopeless, Feliks," Toris said, and he meant it. "Well…maybe at English. And math. And…well, everything academic. But, I mean, for someone whose been homeschooled their whole life, you're not doing bad."

Feliks laughed. "Wow, thanks, Liet! You're too kind! And I've not been homeschooled my whole life, just most of it."

"Oh?" This was news to him. "Why did you start, then?"

"Meh," Feliks waved a dismissive hand. "Reasons. Anyway, you're like, avoiding my question. You going to uni or not?"

And you're avoiding mine. "No," he said, looking out the window at the rapidly darkening street outside. The October nights were getting colder and darker, he acknowledged, and the days becoming shorter. It made him feel strangely melancholy. "I'm not going. I have responsibilities back here that I can't leave behind."

Feliks seemed to be about to ask something, then stopped himself at the last moment. "You could, though. I bet you're, like, clever enough to get into anywhere, if only the circumstances were different."

Toris gave a wan smile. "Yeah, if only."

They settled into a comfortable, contented silence, until Feliks suddenly sat bolt upright and slammed his glass down onto the table. "Damnit! It's almost six, I need to get back! Shiiit, my mom is going to kill me!"

Seeing Toris' raised eyebrows, he added, "Dinner. It's always a 'family time' in our house. My parents are really strict about it. It sucks. Sorry."

"No, it's okay. It sounds like a nice tradition. Have fun."

"Pfft. Like hell I will." Picking up his jacket and shoes from the floor, he put them on. Toris stood up and saw him to the door. He opened it and they stood either side of the doorstep, gazing at each other hesitantly.

"Well, thanks, Liet. For this," he held up a handful of scribbled notes, "and for hanging out with me. It's been great."

"No, thank _you_." He replied sincerely. "I've not had a guest in a long time, and I'd almost forgotten how good it is to have company. Honestly, this is the best time I've had in as long as I can remember."

"Me too…" Feliks began, then hesitated. Toris watched, urging him on. It wasn't like his friend to be nervous. "Would it be okay if I saw you again? I mean, outside of school?"

A small, light flush began to rise up on Toris' cheeks, and he couldn't stop his lips from rising into an involuntary smile. There was a strange, tingling feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place, but that made him feel thrillingly, blissfully happy.

"I'd like that," he replied softly, his heart pounding as he gazed into the anxious, hopeful green eyes before him. "Very much."

* * *

Feliks' visits became a regular occurrence after that.

In the weeks that followed, he visited every Saturday without fail, and several weekdays as well. It was remarkable how quickly he settled into Toris' family. His surprising ability to entertain his brothers - spending hours building intricate Lego structures with Eduard, or watching endless marathons of _Thomas_ with Raivis without complaint – had instantly endeared him to them, and they readily accepted him as another older brother in their household. Their admiration for him only made Toris even more fond of his friend; it was heartbreakingly rare for his brothers to trust anyone so quickly and so easily, after Ivan.

However, despite his patient attention to his younger brothers, Feliks never neglected to spend time with Toris. Even if it was only a small, warm smile exchanged over the top of Toris' laptop screen, or the brief brush of hands as they both reached to pick up a Lego brick at the same time, Toris could feel them growing closer and fonder of one another every day.

Although Feliks' constant presence undoubtably delighted Toris, he was almost certain that his friend saw him as just a schoolfriend – perhaps, at a push, a brother. Nothing more, nothing less. And yet, he began to lie awake more often at night, a faint smile on his face as he thought of those glistening, emerald-green eyes, shining with love that he knew was not for him, yet he desired anyway…

As time went on, he began to know Feliks more and more. Not know about him, exactly – despite first appearances, Feliks, Toris had learned, was a very private person, and he accepted that – but he had gradually begun to know the little quirks and personality traits that made Feliks _Feliks_.

The way, when he laughed, it came out as one quick burst of laughter followed by a bout of childlike giggles that made his nose scrunch up adorably. Or the way he had turned up to Raivis' sixth birthday party – yes, it had been a party, thanks to Feliks' contribution – dressed as a wizard, in a dress of all things (" _It's, like, a robe, Liet!_ ") and had performed a series of tricks so awful that he had all the children rolling about in laughter, even reserved little Emil. And how, at the end of the party when everyone else had gone home, he had pulled Toris from his seat on the couch and waltzed around the living room with him to the sound of small children's party music, his eyes twinkling with mirth and affection. Feliks' warm hands were on his waist, holding him close against his body, and his breath was sweet with strawberry frosting against Toris' neck.

That was about the moment Toris realised that he had fallen in love.

It was early evening when Feliks finally left, and the winter sky had darkened to a deep twilight hue. Toris walked him to the door and down the driveway, then hesitated at the gate, his breath making tiny wisps of smoke in the crisp evening air.

"Thanks for today," Feliks grinned, and his cheeks were flushed, whether from the cold or from…something else, Toris wasn't sure. "I can't remember the last time I had so much fun!"

"Me neither," he replied with a nervous, exhilarated giggle. "Thank you!"

Feliks attempted to brush it off, but Toris insisted. Out of instinct, he grabbed each of Feliks' cold, delicate hands in his own. He blushed when he realised what he had done, but Feliks didn't pull away, so Toris didn't either.

"I mean it. You made his day so special for him; and not just today, either. I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for my family."

Feliks' cheeks darkened, and this time it certainly wasn't from the cold. "Haha, don't worry about it, Liet! If anything, you're totally the ones who are helping me."

"…Me?" Toris echoed sceptically. "Us?" How could he be doing anything for Feliks? Feliks was vibrant and happy and full of life, zipping from one place to another like a firecracker with an endless fuse. He was dull and serious, and kept himself constantly locked away in his bland, grey walls of defence. It was impossible to even think that he could mean anything to someone as perfect as Feliks.

Feliks laughed at his confusion. "Yeah, you! I've not had many friends as close - as special - as you. My life's kinda unpredictable, you know, and I'm always scared of moving on and leaving them behind. But now, with you here, I feel like I'm here to stay for good this time!"

It felt like his face was on fire. Toris looked down at their joined hands, then up again. He didn't know what to say.

"I…"

His friend lowered his eyes, ducking his face into the scarf wrapped around his neck. "You..you asked what, what you could do to, like, repay me. And…" He stopped, hesitated, then spoke again. Toris' eyes never left his face. "This weekend. There's a dance on Saturday evening, at the school, and I was wondering…would you like to go with me?"

The last part was blurted in a panicked rush. Toris could do nothing but stare. Had Feliks just asked him…to a dance? Him? This wasn't possible, this couldn't be happening…

After a moment of silence, Feliks withdrew his hands and turned to leave. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, like, forced it upon you like that. I just thought…I don't really know anyone here yet, and…it was like, totally stupid. I shouldn't have asked."

He opened the gate, but at the last moment Toris' arm shot out, circling his wrist.

"Wait!" Feliks stopped, but didn't turn. "I..." He took a deep breath.

 _Maybe it could be worth it, to take a chance with Feliks. After all, what do I have to lose?_

"I would love to go to the dance with you!"

Feliks whirled round, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. "You mean it? Omigod, Liet, you're the best!" Before Toris could protest, Feliks' arms were around his neck and he was hugging him tightly, kicking his legs up into the air.

Soft lips pressed against his cheek as Feliks kissed him. Toris froze, out of sheer shock and exhilaration. Then Feliks released him, and skipped happily through the gate.

"See you on Saturday, Liet! Wear something fabulous!" He trilled, but Toris only had the strength to raise a weak hand in farewell. As Feliks disappeared down the path, he slowly lowered his hand until it was touching the cheek that he had kissed.

 _That Feliks had kissed_.

 _Feliks had_ kissed _him_.

Briefly, his mind flashed back to the last time he had been kissed in this driveway. He recalled the rain against his skin, the clothes clinging to his body, and the raw, unbridled terror that had coursed through him. He couldn't even remember the feel of Alfred's lips against his own.

It had been terrifying. He had sworn to himself that he never wanted to be kissed like that again, never wanted to feel that fear and desperation. And yet, somehow, he felt that this time was going to be different.

Toris stared numbly down the lamplit road, the streetlights casting blurry orange circles of light on the glistening pavement below. A thin fog of tiny raindrops whirled in each of the shafts of light, softening the night air as they gradually curled around Feliks' faint, fading shadow until they swallowed him whole.

Behind him, he heard the sound of laughter. Eduard and Raivis stood on the doorstep in their pyjamas, grinning delightedly.

"Is Feliks your new boyfriend now, Toris?" Raivis asked happily.

When Toris didn't reply, the two of them began giggling again.

"He is, isn't he?" Eduard crowed over Toris' splutters of protest. "It's so obvious!"

Without warning, Toris felt his face splitting into a huge, irrepressible grin. He couldn't have stopped it if he tried.

"Who are you two laughing at, huh?" He said in a tone of mock aggression. They only laughed harder. "I'll get you for this!"

And then, whirling round, he chased his squealing siblings up the driveway and into the house, glowing with a boundless happiness he didn't know he had in him.

* * *

 **Yep, you guys were probably expecting Feliks to turn up at Toris' house and do something crazy, weren't you? That's what I was expecting, too, but my writing brain had other ideas…maybe Feliks is better at hiding stuff than he appears ;)**

 **Ah, and finally we have the beginnings of romance! At last! And Toris is actually happy for once! Don't worry, that won't last for long… mwahaha :D**

 **Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for the next chapter! Please follow, fav, and review - it's you guys' comments that keep me going :)**


End file.
